Homecoming Queen: A Second Chance Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 2)

by Fabiola Francisco

  “I’m glad. Y’all were the power couple in high school.”

  I laugh boastfully, shaking my head. “I don’t know about a power couple, but we were good together.”

  June raises her eyebrows. “You know you were. Everyone bet you’d end up together.”

  “Yeah, I did, too.” I frown, focusing on the blue cover in my hand.

  Her hand lands on my shoulder. “Be grateful you get a second chance and forget the rest.”

  “Thanks, June. Now, when will you officially become my sister-in-law.”

  She rolls her eyes. “At this rate, who knows. I’m about to tell Miles that we should just go to the courthouse and get married.”

  “What? No!” I grimace at my outburst. “I mean, it’s totally up to you what you want to do. But if you do that, can we at least plan a small reception? Family and a few friends? We can do it in my parents’ house or at the winery by the vineyards.” I give her a hopeful smile. I’d want nothing more than to celebrate my brother’s big day with him.

  “Maybe you should add a wedding planner to your list of traits.” I laugh at her response. “The vineyard would be beautiful. I haven’t had time to think about it with the store opening, but I’d love that. Maybe we could do something intimate there. I’ll talk to Miles.”

  I beam at her. June’s going to be an amazing sister-in-law. She’s even proving that she could be a great friend.

  “Now, tell me everything about Tate.” She doesn’t drop it, and I laugh. I do just that, and we both smile like crazy as I go into detail about the dates we’ve had and our conversations.

  Maybe June and I are already friends. That makes me happy. It’s refreshing to have good and honest people in my life.

  Chapter 19

  Tate

  “Are you sure you wanna get caught up in that?” I look at my best friend with a hard glare.

  “Rafael, I appreciate your concern, but I know what I’m doing,” I tell him as I get ready to leave work. I throw on a pair of jeans and my station polo.

  “Just making sure you’re not hurt again.” He lifts his hands, tossing on a t-shirt.

  “I believe you know me well enough to trust my decisions.” I look at him from my locker, eyebrows lifted.

  He nods. “But Madison’s always been your weak spot.”

  “Yeah, because I loved her. You learn to accept people for who they are—flaws and imperfections—when you love someone.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Man, I can’t wait for the day you fall on your ass over a woman,” I chuckle.

  “Ain’t gonna happen, buddy.” He claps my shoulder and grabs his bag. “Adiós, amigo.”

  “See ya.” I shake my head, slinging my bag over my shoulder and heading out to my car. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Madison. Over a week, to be exact.

  Wanting to see her, I risk waking her up and give her a call. She’s usually up early, so I’m willing to bet she is.

  “Hello?” Her voice is hoarse when she answers.

  “Did I wake you?” I lean back in my car seat.

  “Nope, I just haven’t spoken to anyone yet. Are you leaving work?” She whispers as I hear movement around her.

  “Yeah. I want to see you…”

  “Call me after you get some rest.”

  “How about I grab us some coffee and pastries from The Grind and take it over?” I cross my fingers she says yes.

  “Really? Aren’t you tired?” She’s cute when she sounds confused.

  “I’m positive, babe. I got a little sleep throughout the night.” I turn the ignition while I wait for her reply.

  “Okay. We can sit out on the patio.”

  I smile triumphantly. “I’ll see you in a few.”

  “Is The Grind even open yet?”

  “Yeah, they open at seven, and I left a little later since I was talking to Rafael.” I put my phone on speaker and start driving toward the coffee shop.

  “Great, was he telling you to stay away from me?” I hear the nerves in her shaky voice despite her attempt at sarcasm.

  “He’s just protective and guarded, thinks relationships are pointless.”

  “Well, it feels personal by the way he looked at me when we saw him at Last Call.”

  Rafael did give her a hard stare when he saw us sitting together a few weeks ago. I made sure to clear that up with him afterward.

  “Maddy, all that matters is that I want to give this a try.”

  “Me too,” she whispers.

  “Good, so I’ll see you soon with goodies.” She giggles at that.

  “Thanks, Tate. I’ll open up for you when you arrive.”

  Smiling, I arrive at The Grind, grab our coffees, an assortment of pastries for her parents and us, and whistle as I drive toward the Carlisle Estate. As soon as I approach the iron gate, I ring the bell so Madison can open it. She’s waiting for me outside when I pull up the winding driveway, and I grin at the vision of her in pajama shorts and an oversized sweater, feet bare.

  Jesus, I always thought I’d marry this girl and dreamed of her like this in our home. I take a deep breath to shake that away and hop out of my truck, carrying a tray and a bag with the pastries.

  “Good mornin’, beautiful.” The smile she gives me makes me want to keep it permanently there. No guard. No sadness. Just Maddy.

  “Morning.” She reaches for the tray. “Let me help you.”

  “First…” I lean forward and kiss her sweet lips. “Better,” I whisper as I move my head just enough to look into those green eyes glimmering with specks of gold.

  I don’t give a shit what Rafael says. I want this. I want Madison in my life, her kisses and hugs, her laughter and pain. I want to hold her, comfort her, and build new memories with her. Unlike Rafael, my parents are actually supportive of this relationship.

  “Come in.” I follow her into the house, saying hello to Ms. Sullivan when we walk into the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” Mrs. Carlisle walks in shortly after we do. Her eyes light up in curiosity when she sees me.

  “Good morning,” I smile at her.

  “Hey, Mom, Tate came over for breakfast. We’re going to sit out on the patio,” Madison says as she reaches for two plates and napkins.

  “Sounds great, darlin’.”

  “I brought some pastries for you and Mr. Carlisle as well.”

  “That’s very sweet of you. Any chance you have a Danish in there?” she winks.

  Laughing, I nod. “I remembered how much you like them.”

  After she gets her Danish and a muffin for Mr. Carlisle, Madison and I sit outside under a covered area away from the doors with more privacy. She brings her feet up on the chair, resting the coffee cup on her knees.

  “How was work?”

  “It was good. Nothing major today, so we worked on house chores.”

  Madison giggles. “Sorry,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “I just think it’s cute y’all do chores.”

  “We each take turns cooking, too.”

  “Wait a minute…” She raises her hand. “Do you order take out? Is that allowed?”

  “Har, har,” I add sarcastically. “I have to cook.”

  Her mouth drops, and I bite back a laugh. “Are you saying that you’ve given me the cheap copout that you don’t cook to order food instead?”

  “It’s not a copout. I’m not the best cook. My co-workers know this and rag on me. When it’s my turn to cook, I make burgers. I’m pretty sure they’re tired of them, and I keep waiting for them to take me off the cooking rotation, but no such luck yet.”

  Madison laughs, shaking her head. “I’m gonna have to teach you a different recipe so you can wow them.”

  The thought of her in my kitchen, teaching me to cook, her hands guiding mine… I shift in my seat and clear my throat. More than cooking comes to mind when I think about that. Madison arches a brow with a sly smirk.

  “How about we eat?” I open the bag, and her throaty laugh hits me straight on. So much for
being subtle about where my thoughts went. Madison grabs the cinnamon roll, leaving the blueberry scone for me.

  “So tell me more about the recipe you’d teach me?” I take a drink of my coffee while I watch her mind work.

  “Fajitas. It’s a foolproof recipe,” she smiles triumphantly, but I’m not so sure.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. All you have to do is season chicken breasts and cut them into strips. You cook them in a pan, then add peppers and onions, also cut in strips, and cook those. Get some flour tortillas, sour cream, and shredded cheese and ta-da!” She claps her hands.

  “Do you know what I think?” I place my cup on the table and reach for her chair. The screeching sound makes us cringe as I pull her toward me.

  “What’s that?” Madison looks at me with parted lips. I smirk.

  “You should come over and teach me how to make these. Tonight.” I wink.

  She tilts her head, pressing her lips together. “I’ll have to check my calendar,” she says coyly.

  I reach for her, bringing her onto my lap. Brushing away the messy strands of hair, I stare into her eyes. “Clear whatever you have planned for me.” My voice drops, and my fingers skim her jawline and neck.

  Madison’s breath hitches. Her reaction encourages me to continue talking. I brush her hair behind her ear, smiling when she shivers. “You drive me wild. I can’t help but wonder if we still fit as perfectly as we used to.” My dick is rock hard, and I’m sure she feels it beneath her.

  Her eyes dilate, her soft breath hitting my chin.

  “You’re so fucking perfect.” I grip the back of her head, crashing my mouth to hers. Our lips fuse together, moving from memory. When my tongue runs along the seam of her lips, she doesn’t hesitate to open for me.

  Our tongues tangle, deepening the kiss in a heated moment. I lose myself to her, her body rocking against mine, swallowing her soft moans. She feels so good and tastes so damn sweet. Need pulses through my veins, and I want nothing more than to move her shorts aside and fuck her.

  Then I remember we’re in her parents’ house, and she deserves better than that, especially after what she went through.

  “Stop, or I’m gonna come in my pants.” My hands grip her hips to still her movements. “It’ll be embarrassing as fuck having to explain a stain on my jeans.”

  Madison giggles against my lips, brushing them before hugging my body and resting her head in the crook between my neck and shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and focus on breathing to stop my cock from twitching.

  I lift her chin, so she’s looking at me. “I don’t wanna push you more than you’re ready for either. Not after what you went through.”

  Her eyes soften with a sad smile. “I appreciate that.” She kisses my cheek. “But he won’t win when it comes to that. I may lose my career, but I refuse to lose control over my body and my desires.”

  “You’re strong.” I hold her face with my hands. “Come over tonight,” I whisper. “For fajitas, obviously.”

  She laughs at this. “Obviously.” Her eyes roll to the back of her head, but her smile remains intact. Pressure squeezes my chest. Having her again, I’m wondering if I ever stopped loving her.

  “Darn, I can’t tonight,” she frowns. “I promised June and Miles I’d have dinner at their place. Tomorrow? I’ll grab the ingredients we’ll need.”

  “That’s perfect, but send me a list, and I’ll buy them. Just show up and be patient when I burn a pan.” Her giggles are the best sound in the world.

  “Deal.” She nods against my hands, still holding her face. Something passes through her eyes when she looks at me, and I can’t quite figure it out. She turns her head to kiss my palm, holding my hand and sliding off my lap. I groan and will my body to calm the fuck down.

  We finish our breakfast all the while I listen to her stories about Nashville and the good that’s come from her career. As much as I want Madison naked, I want to spend as much time with her as possible in any way. I’m unsure of what the future will bring in her career, but I’m certain that I won’t give her up this time.

  “I should go.” I stand and grab our trash. “I’ll call you later, okay?” I wrap an arm around her waist and bring her to me, kissing her forehead.

  “Okay.” She smiles. “We’re gonna be okay, right? You don’t hate me anymore?”

  Surprised by her question since I thought we’d overcome that already, I shake my head. “I was angry, Maddy. We’ve talked about this. I need you to trust what I tell you.”

  “I do,” she nods, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “But…doubt seeps in. I don’t think I deserve you.” She whispers the last part, avoiding my eyes.

  “Hey,” I squat and look into her eyes. “You deserve me and more. We both deserve this after everything. I wish I had known everything you were feeling, living through. I wouldn’t have judged you so hard, but we do that when we’re angry. I’m not anymore, okay?” I open my eyes with meaning, making sure she sees the honesty there.

  “Okay,” she nods.

  “Don’t let him break your spirit, too.”

  “My spirit’s already broken,” she says quietly. “It’s what happens with something like this.” She shivers in disgust.

  “We’ll make it whole again, then. He doesn’t get to win.” I fist the hand by my side to hide my anger from her.

  “You’re right,” she says resolutely, shaking her head as if getting rid of her sad mood. Straightening and squaring her shoulders, she adds, “He doesn’t hold the power.”

  “That’s my girl.” I wrap my arm around her neck and drop a kiss on her hair. “Tomorrow, you’re all mine.”

  “I don’t think I ever stopped being yours,” her sad voice breaks my heart.

  “That’s good then because I’ve always been yours.” Her eyes snap up to mine in surprise.

  “But…” I shake my head to stop any excuse coming from her.

  “No matter how hard I tried to move on, I couldn’t. It was impossible to forget you.” I squeeze her fingers. I’m sure she’s questioning my date with Stephanie. It was the first date, and before Madison showing up, I don’t think it would’ve led to more.

  “Let’s never break up again.”

  I chuckle at her declaration. “Deal.”

  Chapter 20

  Madison

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about going to Tate’s for dinner tonight. After our kissing yesterday, I know more can come, and I want to make sure I’m ready. As much as I told Tate that I wouldn’t let someone else control my body, a part of me still shivers at the idea of being touched without consent. Not that Tate has ever done that. And I didn’t feel sick kissing and grinding against him yesterday. It felt great, actually. So much so that I woke up from a dream, and let’s just say I could barely hold it together.

  When Miles asked what was going on between Tate and me at dinner last night, I was truthful. We’ve always been open with each other. Besides hiding the assault from him, he knows all my secrets. He seemed pleased with my response, and June smiled encouragingly.

  I dry my sweaty palms on my jeans before knocking on Tate’s door. Of course, Paul is in the car watching me. As much as I know I need his protection, it kind of takes away from the intimacy. Regardless, I know Paul means well, and he’s a professional.

  “Hey,” Tate smiles as he swings the door open. My eyes swoop down his black t-shirt that spreads over his broad chest and faded jeans. His eyes are bright with joy. He’s always been handsome, but he’s more so now that he’s older with a beard and longer hair.

  I walk in, and he closes the door behind us—finally, privacy.

  “Did you start cooking without me?” I ask, grabbing the towel hanging over his shoulder.

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “I was looking at some videos online to get some tips before you arrived. One of the guys had a towel like that, and I thought it was a good idea. Always have something handy to wipe your hands.”

&n
bsp; I burst out laughing. “God, you’re adorable.”

  His arms wrap around me, bringing me flush with his chest. I’ll never tire of being in his strong embrace. I feel protected and cared for.

  “And you’re beautiful.” He kisses my lips, and I sigh, deepening it with a stroke of my tongue.

  Tate groans, breaking the kiss and looking down at me with hooded eyes. “First, we cook.”

  I nod, following him into his kitchen and finding all the ingredients spread out in a mess. I look around and start organizing everything, so it’s easier to grab what we need when the time comes.

  “Okay, first, we need to season the chicken breasts, or they’ll taste like crap.” He chuckles at my comment and stands beside me, hands gripping the counter.

  “Put me in, coach,” he calls out. I look at him with furrowed brows before cracking up. “I guess sports expressions don’t work for cooking.”

  “Not quite.” I season the first chicken breast, using salt, pepper, garlic powder, and chili powder, showing him how I spread it on both sides. Then, I have him repeat it with the other one.

  “You don’t want to overdo it, or it’ll be impossible to eat,” I comment as he sprinkles salt over the chicken.

  After, I have him cut it into strips while the pan heats with some olive oil. We work together as I guide him through the process. Soon, he’s chopping the vegetables, too.

  “This isn’t too bad,” he comments as he sets the peppers aside on the cutting board and begins on the onion.

  “You see. It’s an easy recipe, and cooking is fun, but you need to get out of your head. Make it a game.” I toss the chicken on the pan to make sure it cooks evenly.

  “Easy to say. You’ve never had to taste my cooking before. Too much salt, too spicy, too bland, burnt pieces. I’ve done it all.” I smile, though a part of me feels the sadness of never having that experience with him.

  “Here, taste this.” I cut a piece of the cooked chicken and hold it up to his mouth. He takes the bite, his lips grazing my fingers and causing my body to heat. Tate stares into my eyes, lust swimming in them.